Morning in L.A. Sun through the heavy curtain still warm and bright. Sitting and schmoozing. Chris waiting by the door. Patient little man. An elegant gentleman to the core. Ready whenever you are, he says.
Month: November 2008
When such matters are considered
I believe that in the misty future when such matters are considered, the overshadowing historical feature of the twentieth century will not be the unleashing of the atom or the rise of the Third World, but the rise of the Second World – women. The novels I write, whether comic or serious, deal with the oftentimes subtle, unconscious, evolving image women have of themselves – women who do not ordinarily or consciously perceive themselves as feminist, but whose perspectives and expectations have been radically, irrevocably altered by feminist politics and the mid-century emergence of the female work force.
What are the new conflicts and satisfactions, losses and rewards – emotional, intellectual, as well as tangible – for the ubiquitous, nonexistent ‘average woman’? This sort of question underlies the kind of intimate, personally detailed novel I enjoy writing and reading.
Colloquial saying from readers
- A hop, skip and a jump from here
- What the Sam Hill–?
- What in tarnation–?
- I’ll be a monkey’s uncle
- A month of Sundays
- Once in a blue moon
- Can’t teach an old dog new tricks
- No fool like an old fool
- Raining cats and dogs
- Curiosity killed the cat
- Hold your horses
- For Pete’s sake
- For the love of Mike
- For crying out loud
- You can’t get blood from a turnip
- Blood is thicker than water
- Blood will tell
- So help me Hannah
- Jeepers Creepers!
- I’ll betcha two bits
- Up the creek without a paddle
- Scarce as hens’ teeth
- Hubba hubba
- My stars and garters
- Hotter than a gangster’s pistol
- It’s the cat’s pajamas…the cat’s meow… the bee’s knees…
- He’d lie when the truth would serve him better
- She looked as if she’d been dragged through a knothole backwards
- It’s a pip or pipperoo
- There are more hoses’ behinds than there are horses
- I’ve got a hitch in my git-along
- It’s not where you sit on Sundays but where you stand the rest of the week